Taylor asked, “Did one of these autonomous prototypes kill Major Ames?”
Dombroski nodded. “That is my understanding.”
Brodie said, “My Roomba is autonomous, but it’s only lethal to dust bunnies.”
Taylor sighed.
Brodie continued, “It’s also stupid. Sometimes it traps itself in the bathroom until the battery dies.”
Dombroski looked at him. “Is there a point here, Mr. Brodie?”
“Yes, sir. Once something is lethal, the stakes get a lot higher for it to be smart. Not to mention predictable. I’m surprised the Army has deployed LAWs, even as prototypes in training exercises, but once they crossed that line it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”
Dombroski clarified, “We don’t know what happened, and we don’t want to jump to alarmist conclusions. We know a man is dead. The brass at Camp Hayden seem certain his death was directly causedby one of these autonomous weapons systems. The three of us sitting in this room, along with General Hackett, do not know the reason for that certainty, or the specific nature of these weapons. There is something of an information blackout at Camp Hayden. Colonel Elizabeth Howe, Hayden’s deputy camp commander, was the one to report this death directly to General Hackett, and she revealed as few details as possible. Hackett got the impression that Colonel Howe wanted to investigate this internally, but she understood that procedurally and legally she has to involve CID to establish whether there is criminal liability, either through negligence or malice.”
This case sounded like a minefield—and a migraine. Brodie said, “Sir, neither Ms. Taylor nor I have any expertise in these kinds of technical matters. Determining negligence or malice requires a sophisticated understanding of these systems.”
“You can handle it. Your first job is to determine whether there is even the possibility of criminal liability—or criminal intent.” Dombroski added, “As exotic as this stuff sounds, we could be dealing with some version of a workplace accident.”
“Maybe you should call OSHA.”
He leaned forward in his chair and stared at Brodie. “I calledyou, Scott. Because despite your many flaws, you have a sixth sense for bullshit.” Then he looked at Taylor. “And you both have keen analytical minds. There is a team of computer scientists and engineers at Camp Hayden who can explain anything and everything you need to know. They have the knowledge. But they do not have your investigative skills. They also do not have your perspective. Their entire professional lives have led to what they are doing at Camp Hayden, and your investigation could possibly end their work. They might have a vested interest in certain outcomes. Plus, there are other forces at play here. Have either of you heard of the U.S. Army Futures Command?”
They both shook their heads.
“I’m not surprised. The command was formed less than a year ago,headquartered in Austin, and they’re still getting up and running. They now oversee DEVCOM—the late Major Ames’s command—as well as several other research and acquisition efforts. Their basic mission is to modernize the Army. It’s been decades since a new combat system has been fielded, and a lot of people in the Pentagon find this unacceptable, not to mention dangerous vis-à-vis the technological strides being made by our adversaries. The work being done at Camp Hayden is but one element of this thrust toward modernization, and a hell of a lot of bureaucrats and billions of dollars are behind these efforts. As you can imagine, some powerful interests will take notice of your investigation, and your findings. They might evenwantyou to find a crime, because the absence of one suggests a fundamental flaw in the design of these LAWs, making this whole project a financial boondoggle and a PR nightmare for the future of high-tech warfare.” He added, “There’s a lot riding on this. I trust you to get it right.”
Taylor nodded. “We will, sir.”
Dombroski used to at least feign that he wasofferingsuch a high-profile and important case to his favorite agents, who could then accept or decline the plum assignment. But that pretense was gone. They were stuck with this mess, which sounded both ridiculous and bone-chilling. Brodie asked, “Have they arrested the robot?”
Dombroski pursed his lips. “It’s a lethal autonomous weapon, Mr. Brodie. ‘Robot’ conjures up all sorts of associations and assumptions that might not be helpful.” He thought a moment, then continued, “We don’t know what we are dealing with. Yet. But I do know that the Uniform Code of Military Justice does not reference apprehending, prosecuting, or incarcerating military equipment.”
Taylor asked, “What about interrogating? Can these LAWs communicate?”
Dombroski replied, “I don’t know more than I told you. And I will know a lot less than you do when you’re out there. Camp Hayden has extremely strict communication protocols: No one is allowed to usepersonal electronic devices. You will need to surrender your phones upon arrival. And don’t bother bringing a laptop or tablet, as those would also be seized. There are dedicated and secure landlines on-site for external communication, but there are strict protocols about what can and cannot be discussed via these lines. So, assume the lines are tapped by military intelligence.” He added, “My impression is that you will have access to highly classified information, and that information must remain with you at Camp Hayden until such time as your investigation is concluded and you file your report, which will also be subject to review and, most likely, top-secret classification.”
Usually, Brodie had to find clever ways to not contact his commanding officer while on a case. Now it sounded like Camp Hayden’s anal-retentive bureaucracy would do the work for him. “Will you be directly overseeing this case, sir?”
Dombroski nodded. “In fact, I imagine this will be the last CID case I directly oversee.” He smiled. “In the Army, once you get good enough at something, they stop letting you do it.” He looked at Brodie. “A reason why you might want to dodge a promotion if one ever comes your way.”
Brodie did not respond. Warrant officers had five ranks. Brodie was a Chief Warrant Officer Four, and Taylor was a Chief Warrant Officer Two. In the CID, once an officer reaches the highest rank of CW5, he or she is no longer directly conducting investigations but moves up to a command or managerial position. That didn’t exactly fit Scott Brodie’s skill set, and he was sure that the brass responsible for deciding promotions would agree. He was going to be a CW4 until retirement. Or death, which sometimes came with a posthumous promotion if you were killed in the line of duty.
Dombroski continued his briefing. “You fly to LAX tomorrow morning. The travel office is booking you on a commercial flight. A car and driver will take you from LAX to Van Nuys Airport, a noncommercial strip in the San Fernando Valley. From there a Black Hawk willfly you about a hundred fifty miles northeast to Camp Hayden, which is in the middle of the Mojave Desert, a.k.a. in the middle of nowhere.” He added, “You should know that the camp commander, Brigadier General Christopher Morgan, has Camp Hayden on lockdown. All training and testing have been halted, and all personnel are confined to their quarters, other than those assigned to security.” He looked at Brodie and Taylor. “Nothing goes in or out of Hayden, except the two of you.”
Taylor said, “It sounds like General Morgan suspects a crime has been committed.”
“I don’t know General Morgan, and I have no idea what he suspects. At the very least, he understands the gravity—and unusual nature—of the situation and isn’t concerned about keeping up an appearance of normalcy. To me, that’s a good sign.”
Sure, thought Brodie. Because Stanley Dombroski wasn’t the one who had to fly into a military camp on lockdown, in the middle of a desert wasteland, full of lethal hardware that might all be on the fritz.
The general looked at some papers on his desk and continued, “I was searching for any press or publicity about Camp Hayden to get some basic information about the place, and I found only a singleArmy Timesarticle from three months ago.” He slid a printout across his desk, and Brodie and Taylor looked at it.
The headline read: “ARMY RANGER DIES AT REMOTE CALIFORNIA TRAINING FACILITY.” The page featured a military portrait of a young man in camo fatigues and a tan beret.
Dombroski summarized: “Private First Class Justin Beal fell unconscious and died after a training exercise. Cause of death was ruled cardiac arrest, and an autopsy found high amounts of amphetamines and steroids in his system.” He added, “As you know, abuse of performance-enhancing drugs in the military, especially among elite units like the Rangers, is widespread and not unique to Camp Hayden. But if one soldier died, that means a lot of them are probably using. Justsomething to be aware of. This article, of course, makes no mention of the specific training being conducted at the camp.”
Brodie looked at the portrait of the young Ranger. Poor kid. Talk about hardship duty. Training way out in the sweltering desert with… whatever the hell these things were.
